So, my little car...she's not well.
At 185,000 miles she is elderly and on the auto-equivalent of life support.
One week she is incontinent and needs a new valve gasket, the next week she blows out a hip and needs to have a CV joint replaced. All along she needs a steady supply of oil, as she farts blue smoke every morning.
So I've been looking at cars. But when I look, I feel like I'm cheating. Ogling the newer cars' features - TWO cup holders? Sa-weet! - admiring the pretty paint choices, fondling the leather seats.
I have guilt.
Hubster is over my guilt. He's ready to move on and has an opinion as to what I should be driving.
If I HAVE to get a new vehicle, I want a SMALL vehicle. A coupe. A cute car, an easy-to-park car. A little Civic 2-door or even an Accord or Altima coupe. Hey, I'm flexible.
He wants me to drive Sherman Tank.
Current car is a mid size sedan. A middle-age car. I've always had responsible, respectable, dull cars. Hub wants me to stick within the safe confines of the dull category...or move up to a tank. He'd be over the moon if I bought an F150 loaded with chrome.
So I found something in-between: a Nissan Rogue. It is cute but it's a 4-door. It's not an Urban Assault Vehicle, but if I got hit it wouldn't shatter. It - excuse me while I get girly - comes in pretty colors and configurations but it is gender-neutral enough for him to drive without embarrassment. Basically, it is the perfect compromise.
So, last weekend we went shopping. Took a trip up to Nashville to go honky-tonkin' and looked at a few car lots while we were there - Hub had never even heard of a Rogue before Sunday, so he was anxious to check them out.
On our very first try - at the very first lot - a gently used 2008 Rogue sat right out at the street - front and center - practically BECKONING us. We stopped. We ogled. Hub nodded. My hopes soared cautiously.
And then out walked the salesman and within 10 minutes I was ready to leave.
Picture a less-polished Jeff Foxworthy - mullet, ballcap, untucked polo without a t-shirt. He wore mirrored wrap-around sunglasses and had bits of tobacco stuck to his front teeth.
In a word, he was a mess. An ungodly mess.
I expected him to act like I wasn't standing beside him and he didn't disappoint. Talked to Hubster like he was there alone. This was fine. The last thing I wanted was to engage this Hillbilly in conversation.
Hub explained to the guy that I love Nissans, that I've had my car for 12 years and the car before that was a Nissan, which I kept for 11 years.
At one point he started pushing Hub toward a new vehicle..."Lots more choices out back" he said. I looked at Hub and said quietly, "I don't want a new car - I'm really not interested in eating the depreciation and this one is only a year old."
Apparently Mr. Foxworthy thought I was talking to him.
"What are you worried about depreciation for? Sounds like you drive a car until the wheels fall off - what do you care about depreciation?"
Well, F*ck you.
"Because," I looked him dead in those stupid mirrored glasses, "I could lose my job. And if I DO lose my job and need to get rid of the car, I'll be SELLING a used car, so I'd rather BUY a used car and not end up upside-down on the loan."
I was ready to hit him. After ignoring me for 15 minutes, this douche bag had the balls to get snarky.
Hub sensed it was time to go. Douche bag sensed he wasn't going to make a sale, and I was sick-to-my-stomach angry.
We drove off to a different lot, where they had no Rogues, but they sales guy was very, very nice.
Luckily, while in Nashville, Hub discovered CarMax and is in LOVE with the concept: Find a vehicle online and have them send it to your local CarMax lot. It's perfect. He's in total control and I don't risk an assault and battery charge.
Everybody wins but the douche bag. I can live with that.